“A fine wooer, indeed!” thought the squire.  “If the stone-clad fellow should not possess a vulnerable spot somewhere on his body I shall certainly lose my position!”

Similar thoughts passed through the knight’s mind, and consequently he did not attack it with his sword, but lifting a huge piece of granite from the ground he hurled it at the monster’s head.  The creature only sneezed, and passed its hand over its eyes as if to brush away a fly.  Then it looked round and, perceiving the knight, bellowed aloud, and changed itself into a dragon spouting fire.  Herr Wendelin rejoiced at this, for his favourite pastime was to kill that sort of beast.  He had no sooner, however, plunged his good sword into a soft part of the monster, and seen the blood flow from the wound, than his opponent changed itself into a griffin, and raising itself from the ground swooped upon him.  His defence now became more difficult, as the evil spirit continued to attack him in ever changing forms, but Sir Wendelin was no coward, and knew well how to use his arm and sword.  At length, however, the knight began to feel that his strength was deserting him; his sword seemed to grow heavier and heavier in his hand, and his legs felt as if an hundredweight had been attached to them.  His squire, noting his fatigue, grew faint, and began to think the best thing for him would be to ride off, for the fight was likely to end badly for his master.  The knight’s knees were trembling under him, and as the monster, in the form of a unicorn, charged against his shield he fell to the ground.

The creature shrank suddenly together and in the guise of a black, agile rat shot towards him.

Sir Wendelin felt that he was losing consciousness, he heard faintly a voice from the grotto where the lady was imprisoned calling to him:  “The ring, remember the ring!”

He was just able to turn with his thumb the ring on his little finger.  Immediately he felt himself lighter and freer than he had ever felt before, and his heart seemed to harden to a steel spring, while a gay and reckless mood came over him.  A wild desire to fly took possession of him at the same time, and it seemed as if he were only fourteen years old once more.  Some strange force impelled him aloft into the air, to which he yielded, spreading the two large wings, that he suddenly found himself in possession of, as naturally as if he had used them all his life.  He soon felt the feathers on his back stroked by the clouds, and yet he saw everything below him on the earth more distinctly than ever before.  Even the smallest things appeared perfectly clear to his sharpened eyes, and yet he seemed to see them as if reflected in a brilliant mirror.  He could distinguish even the hairs on the rat and suddenly another impulse came over him—­the impulse to stoop down and catch the long-tailed vermin in his beak and claws.  Wendelin had been changed into a falcon, and the rat struggled in vain to escape his powerful attack.